Overlooked
by shopgirl152
Summary: With all the attention Phineas gets, poor Ferb is starting to feel overlooked. Is there really glory in being just a man of action? Ferbella friendship. one-shot.


**A/N: **Woot woot! Two PnF uploads in one day! Enjoy!

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><p>His brother's creative whimsy always amazed him. No matter how complicated the blueprint or schematic; no matter how impossible or outrageous the idea, he always managed to pull it off with little fuss.<p>

It was something Ferb was envious of. He loved his brother, yes, and often stood in awe of his brother's creativity, but…for just once, he wished he wasn't overlooked so much.

He sighed, pulling on a blade of grass. "I guess there's no glory for the man behind the blueprints."

"Hey Ferb." He looked up, watching Isabella walk into the yard. "Where's Phi—"

"Where's Phineas? Where's Phineas?" He leapt to his feet, fists clenched at his sides. "I'll tell you where Phineas is! He's not here if that's what you're asking. He's probably off getting some newer and grander ideas!"

Isabella raised an eyebrow. "Um, Ferb? Are you okay? You're not normally so chatty."

He glared at her a moment before his fists unclenched. "I'm sorry Isabella. It's just…oh nevermind." He sat down with a sigh, pointing toward the house. "He's inside."

"Um…thanks." Isabella started walking toward the back door. She was just about to go inside when her hand stopped, hovering over the handle. She pulled back, counting on her fingers before turning back around and approaching him. "You just said exactly twenty-seven words. You never have outbursts like that." She squatted down on the ground next to him. "Want to talk about it?"

"What's there to talk about?" He pulled on a blade of grass. "Everyday, it's the same thing. Phineas wakes up and after he's had breakfast and become fully awake, it's 'Hey Ferb, I know what're gonna do today.'"

"Ookaay…what does—"

"Then he gets the biggest, best ideas, tells them to me and I work out the blueprints. I work out the instructions for how to build it. I work out everything from where the rivets go to the materials we're going to need. But does anyone pay attention to me? No!" He clenched his fists, breaking a blade of grass in his hand before letting it crumble to the ground.

He sighed, taking a deep breath before calming down. "Nobody pays attention to me. I'm the one who's actually capable of building my brother's inventions, but every kid in the neighborhood, every adult, gives Phineas recognition. 'Wow Phineas, that was great. What's in store for tomorrow? Aren't you a little old to be asking for steel girders? Look everyone, Phineas is the Beak, the awesome superhero.'" He stared at Isabella. "You've even done it."

"No I haven't."

"Yes, you have." Isabella could see the hurt look in her friend's face. "The day Phineas and I built The Beak suit, you didn't even recognize me. You just told Phineas he was brave and walked off with him."

"Bu-bu—Ferb, you know how much I like Phineas. It wasn't that I was ignoring you or telling you that being the thighs of the Beak is a glorious job." She paused. "Which I'm sure it is, but…you can't count that."

"Why not?"

"Do I pay attention to anything else besides Phineas when he's around?"

"Well…" Ferb sighed. "I guess not. You do tend to go to Phineasland quite often." He smirked. "By the way, how is Phineasland?"

She sighed dreamily. "It's a wonderful, magical place full of unicorns and rainbows…"

"Would that be a land where Phineas _is_ a unicorn? Or rather, a centaur?"

Isabella blushed darkly. "N-no. Wait, how did you…?"

"Adyson told me."

"Adyson? Why that little snitch! Ooo…she is so getting her Secret Keeping patch revoked!"

"It's alright. I won't tell anyone. Besides, we're talking about my problem here. Being overlooked."

Isabella blew a raspberry. "You're not overlooked Ferb." She scooted closer, putting an arm around his shoulder. "You're the most important part! Without you, Phineas wouldn't be able to make all these inventions. You know he's not much of a builder. Have you seen him try to build on his own? Popsicle sticks and glue would be safer."

Ferb smirked.

"Besides, you and Phineas are a team. If things were reversed, if Phineas was the one who felt overlooked, you would be building things with no idea what to do with them. You use each other's skills to make these extraordinary things a reality."

"That still doesn't change the fact that I'm overlooked."

"People just don't appreciate a good engineer. What'd you say with The Beak suit? There's no glory in thighs? Well…maybe you're the thighs. Needed, yet underappreciated."

He smirked. "That's not much a pep talk."

"It's all I got. I still haven't earned my pep talk patch." She elbowed him. "Maybe I can count this? Although I guess that only counts if I've made you feel better. Did I make you feel better?"

He smiled, giving her a one-armed hug. "Yes, yes you did. You—" He was cut off by a loud crash coming from the vicinity of the garage.

Isabella looked at him. "What was that?"

"I have no idea." Ferb jumped up, running to the garage, Isabella behind him. When he reached the door, he skidded to a stop, eyes wide.

"Ferb, did you find…" Isabella stopped in her tracks. "Oh…my…gosh."

There in the garage, tangled up in a mess of wires was Phineas. He was hanging suspended from the workbench, the only thing keeping him from falling being one lone paint bucket that was sitting on one of the wires. Paint and paint buckets littered the floor.

"Oh my gosh! Phineas, what happened?" Isabella asked.

"Well, I was looking at Ferb's latest blueprint, detailing our plans for the largest paper-mache statue of John P. Tristate, when I realized I had told the Danville Historical Society that we'd have it done by this afternoon. I went to go get Ferb, but the two of you were busy talking. I didn't want to interrupt, so I decided to start working on the statue myself." He grinned sheepishly, looking around the garage. "As you can see, it didn't work out so well."

Ferb stared at his brother, a smirk forming on his face. "Hmm…popsicle sticks and glue…"

Isabella giggled. "Exactly."

"What?" Phineas looked between the two of them.

"Oh nothing, we were just—" But Isabella couldn't hold it in any longer. She erupted into a fit of giggles, laughing so hard she had to lean on Ferb for support.

Ferb meanwhile was holding onto the side of the garage door, laughing hysterically. "Well Isabella, maybe I really am the thighs. Maybe I get just the right amount of glory." He motioned to Phineas. "I don't think I could take all that pressure."

"Ha ha. Very funny Ferb." Phineas looked between the two. "Uh, guys? Little help here? Guys?"

Isabella composed herself, standing upright. She put a hand on Ferb's shoulder. "Well, I'm gonna go. Call me if you guys need help with anything." She looked at Ferb, smirking. "Good luck untying him."

"Thanks for the talk."

"No prob."

Ferb watched her go before turning his attention to the table. He studied the wires for several minutes, gently pushing back the paint can and lowering his brother to safety.

"Thanks Ferb. I wasn't sure how long I was going to be stuck there." Phineas found the load wire, gently tugging on it until the rest of the wires fell down in a heap ahead him. He gently stepped out of the bundle. "So what were you and Isabella talking about?"

"Oh, just girl stuff." Ferb choked on a laugh at the look on his brother's face. "Kidding. Just having a nice talk."

"Oh. Well, that's nice. You and Isabella don't get a chance to talk much."

"No, we don't."

"Well…" Phineas looked at the blueprint on the table. "I suppose we should get this thing started. I told the Danville Historical Society we would have this done by this afternoon." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I…could use some help with it. You know I'm not great with building."

"Obviously."

Phineas glared at him. "Don't remind me Bro."

Ferb sighed melodramatically. "There is but little glory in being the thighs. But if the head needs help, the thighs must do their share."

Phineas raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about Ferb?"

"Oh, nothing."


End file.
